


Get me through the night

by UpInOrbit



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood, Happy Ending, It's not as bad as I make it sound, M/M, Murder, Non-Linear Narrative, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 20:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpInOrbit/pseuds/UpInOrbit
Summary: “I asked you about the first time you two met,” the man replied with a kind smile.“He said he was the Devil,” he whispered, lost in the memory.“And what did you say? Did you believe him?” There was the scraping of a pen against paper and the insistent buzzing above them, but Kunhang didn’t hear them, immersed in the past.“I told him I thought the Devil would be taller,” he remembered the laugh the other let out, and the cold hands that caressed his face for a second so brief, he was sure he had imagined it.“Did he tell you his name?” He nodded, his eyes closed. “Kunhang? Did he?” The man pressed, and Kunhang realized he hadn’t spoken aloud.“Ten. He said he was Ten.”





	Get me through the night

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of things to say: the tags make it seem much worse than it really is, but it's better safe than sorry. And I assure you there's a happy ending for (most of) the characters.  
> This is mainly a gift to you because today's my first anniversary since I started posting fics and I felt like posting something to commemorate it. It's been harder to write than I thought, so a big thanks to [Dany](https://twitter.com/lalisadyke) and [Marta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikaslist/pseuds/Nikaslist)for their help and support, because I was so close to giving up on this.  
> The title is a line taken from [Nothing but thieves' Particle](https://open.spotify.com/track/1W2TYUenzUdOOuATtQIWS2) (amazing group and song, btw) and I wrote almost everything to Bishop Briggs' [Church of scars](https://open.spotify.com/album/1TTxcgs3zEngN0EB56yXzY), in case you want to check it out ^^  
> I hope you'll enjoy this!

“Kunhang?” He turned his head to the right and hummed. A man, older than he was, clad in a lab-coat, looked at him through thin-rimmed glasses, concerned. “Did you say something?”

He shook his head, weakly. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“I asked you about the first time you two met,” the man replied with a kind smile.

Kunhang nodded, fighting the slight discomfort that came with the movement. His body felt so heavy, too heavy to move, not even his hands. Around him, everything was void, white, pristine, so bright it hurt his eyes, and so he closed them.

It came back to him in a flash, the door to his dorm opening, just to reveal the most beautiful man he had ever seen, standing in the middle of the room, talking to Kunhang’s roommate. They both turned when they heard the door open and stared at him as he stood by the threshold, wondering if he had walked into something.

His roommate seemed concerned, his eyes jumping from the stranger to Kunhang in a split second, before moving forward to introduce the both of them. Kunhang paid him little mind, his focus solely on the other man, who, even just standing there, carried himself with an otherness that attracted Kunhang as if they were polar opposites.

His eyes were dark and cunning, speaking of a clever and agile mind, and he moved with a dancer’s grace. He took a step towards Kunhang to greet him, and shot him a smile.

It was then when Kunhang knew he was already gone for him.

“He said he was the Devil,” he whispered, lost in the memory.

“And what did you say? Did you believe him?” There was the scraping of a pen against paper and the insistent buzzing above them, but Kunhang didn’t hear them, immersed in the past.

“I told him I thought the Devil would be taller,” he remembered the laugh the other let out, and the cold hands that caressed his face for a second so brief, he was sure he had imagined it.

“Did he tell you his name?” He nodded, his eyes closed. “Kunhang? Did he?” The man pressed, and Kunhang realized he hadn’t spoken aloud.

“Ten. He said he was Ten.”

 

***

 

_Say my name_.

 

***

 

“What happened the first time you met, just the two of you?”

Kunhang wanted to ask for a glass of water, his throat parched, as if he had been talking for hours and not just a few minutes, but there was nothing in the room other than the bed he was in, and the chair the man was occupying. For some reason, he didn’t think he would be given water just then. He tried to move himself into a more comfortable position, but his body wouldn’t react, seemingly locked in place. He sighed and rolled his head over on the pillow.

“He came one day. My roommate was out and Ten waited inside for him,” he simply replied. The man pursed his lips in discontent.

“Kunhang…,” the disappointment in his voice was obvious. Disappointment, and a hint of something else. He squirmed around, taking something out of his pocket. _Click_.

“There was nothing else to it, I-I don’t remember much, I’m sorry,” the lie tasted like ashes in his mouth.

Some part of him, ancient, hidden in the back of his mind, was screaming at him to not talk about it. Even if felt disconnected, far away from him, muffled like the statics over the phone, he listened.

It was true there wasn’t much to it, but Kunhang remembered everything, every little detail, every shape, every colour. It was imprinted in his mind, carved into his memory. Ten had knocked at his door, looking for his roommate, but finding only Kunhang. 

It was pouring outside and Kunhang insisted on Ten staying and waiting inside. Ten had refused, until Kunhang had dragged him in, inviting him to stay for as long as he needed. And so, Ten stayed, watching Kunhang as he hunched over books, scurrying to finish his work. He hadn’t said a word during the few hours it had taken him to do so, just observing him from the couch on which he had sat.

Once Kunhang was done, he had moved over to sit beside him, and put on a movie. Ten would softly ask him questions, which he would answer softly too, and then return the question. 

Night fell and it caught them snuggled up to each other, Kunhang curled into Ten, his head on the other’s shoulder, breathing him in, so close he’d almost be able to listen to his heartbeat. He knew Ten had whispered something, his lips caressing Kunhang’s hair, but so quietly the words were lost to him. 

It wasn’t until Ten was one that he realized his roommate was out of town for the weekend, and that Ten hadn’t answered any of his questions. 

The memory’s edges started to fray, like those of an old photograph, and Kunhang plunged into darkness.

 

***

 

_Say my name_.

 

***

 

Even though he had just woken up, Kunhang felt exhausted, the kind of tired that seeps into your bones and doesn’t let go, no matter how much you sleep. He let his eyes wander around, and they got caught on a drip beside his bed, standing where seconds before there had been nothing. Kunhang blinked but it stayed where it was. He frowned.

“When did you bring it?” he asked. The man cocked his head to the side, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“What do you mean? It has always been there, Kunhang, don’t you remember?”

Kunhang closed his eyes, ransacking his brain for a memory. There was something at the edge of his mind, nagging at him, a thought just out of reach, slipping between his fingers like the sand of a beach, but… Maybe it had always been there. Maybe he had just not paid attention.

“Maybe,” he replied, unsure. The man nodded, smiling at him.

“Let’s just carry on, shall we? When did you realize there was something off with Ten?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his words were slurred even to his own ears. He thought maybe the man wouldn’t be able to understand him, but he seemed focused on his face.

“Come on, Kunhang, don’t play dumb with me. You know there was something strange about him,” Kunhang shook his head, and the man stared at him, a gleam, something like hunger shining in his eyes, gone as soon as it appeared. “You’re a smart one, Kunhang. Sure you noticed there was something wrong with him.”

Kunhang could feel the weight of the man’s eyes on him, scrutinizing his face, analyzing his every expression. Above him, the incessant buzzing that seemed to get louder as time passed, the light turning even brighter. 

“Why the drip?” He answered, still looking for an answer to a question he didn’t yet know.

“Because of the fight, of course,” the man replied, his lips stretching in imitation of a smile. “You lost so much blood, Kunhang.”

“What fight? There was never a fight.” That much he knew. Still, the man looked at him like he knew a secret, the funniest joke in the world.

_Click_.

“Oh, Kunhang, don’t you know? There’s always a fight.” 

 

***

 

His head spun and he tried to grab onto something, stay afloat.

He thought of smiles, shared secrets, fleeting touches. A promise. He remembered time passed, lingering fingers, the press of cold lips against the back of his hand.

There was the memory of a rose for a birthday, a kiss at his door, blood on the floor.

Darkness came and he sank under it.

 

***

 

“How long am I going to be here?” His throat was raw, but still he tried to push the words through his lips.

“Until you answer our questions,” the man replied. His glasses were forgotten on the grey table by his side.

“And then I’ll leave?” A brief smile for an answer.

“Why did you like Ten?”

Kunhang’s mind felt muddied, slow. It took him a couple of seconds to process the question.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Answer the question, Kunhang. What did you like about him?” His tone was stern. Kind? Stern, his brain decided.

“Ten… He’s brilliant and shiny and you can’t take your eyes off him,” he said, his mind conjuring images of Ten, of him smiling, laughing, crying. “He’s smart and funny and… And unexpected.”

Ten was the old and the new, the courage he lacked, the freedom he craved for. He was crazy in the best of senses, unbound in ways Kunhang had only dreamt of, and he seemed to have taken a liking to him. He might have been many things, but Kunhang was no liar, no fool, and he accepted his beating hearts and sweaty palms at Ten’s smile for what they were, and he knew why Ten’s eyes shone differently when they locked gazes.

He just wished he hadn’t been such a coward.

Or maybe he hadn’t?

Flowers, a kiss, a fight, a meeting, a flash of white, pain. They all mixed up in his head. Tall, stony ceilings, white walls, a TV. A cathedral and a dorm, past and present, dreams and memories. Where did one start? Did they ever end?

“Kunhang, focus,” he blinked until the bright ceiling came to focus once more. His head hurt, like it was going to split into two. “What didn’t you like about him?”

“Nothing,” he whispered. “I liked everything about him.” Above him, the man tutted his tongue.

“But that’s not true, isn’t it, Kunhang?”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“You know he never cared about you, right?”

Kunhang shook his head, violently.

“That’s not true.”

The man looked at him with something like pity in his eyes. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You were only the means to an end,” Kunhang wanted to protest, cover his ears so he wouldn’t have to listen to the insidious words, but his body wouldn’t respond and so he lay there, unable to fight back, to wipe that smile off the other’s face. “Remember what he said to your friend the first time you saw each other, Kunhang. You’ve always known.”

And he remembers, that first day in their room, the promise Ten had made, his dark eyes turning to Kunhang as soon as the words had left his mouth. _I want what was mine back. Keep your end, and I’ll keep mine. Don’t betray me, and we’ll both get what we’re looking for_.

“How do you know that? I didn’t tell you,” the drowsiness was creeping up on him, steadily increasing as time went by.

“There’s only you, Kunhang. You let us inside your head, don’t you remember?”

“Then get out, and let me go,” he grunted, grinding his teeth.

“I’m afraid that’s not how it works.”

 

***

 

“What do you think about secrets?” The question slipped from Ten’s lips like he hadn’t even intended for it do so, but he didn’t take it back.

Kunhang looked at him, tilting his head to the side from where he was lying against the couch.

“I’ve always thought they weigh you down,” he mused. “And they can be harmful. But sometimes, they’re necessary. Why?”

Ten reached out to move Kunhang’s hair out of the way, softly caressing his skin.

“I was just thinking,” he smiled, but it seemed strained. Kunhang waited, patient. “Names have power, but Ten’s not my real name, you know? Just one I chose for myself, which gives it a different kind of power, I guess, but I haven’t been able to go by it in a long time.”

“Why?” He asked, propping his chin on his hand.

“A promise I did, many years ago. One that meant having many secrets,” he opened his mouth to say something else, dubious, but he lost his chance when the door opened.

Yangyang came in, carrying something in his hands. Ten sat straighter at the sight of him, all softness gone from him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Yangyang eyes settled on Kunhang briefly before returning to Ten.

“Can you do it?”

“Yes but—“

“Then I’m sure,” but Yangyang stood where he was, as if he were rooted to the ground. Ten sighed, running his hands through his hair. “It’s the only way, Yangyang. He will understand after everything is done.”

“That’s, if we succeed,” Ten smiled, a flash of white canines.

“If we fail, then we’ll be dead, and it won’t matter.”

He had been sitting in silence, listening to them both as they spoke, but at that Kunhang rose, his brows furrowed in confusion, and concern.

“What are you talking about? Yangyang, what’s happening?” The only answer was the pleading look Yangyang sent him. “Ten? Yangyang? What—?”

“I’m sorry, my love, but you will understand, and when the time comes, you’ll know how to find me.” 

Ten moved to stand right in front him, faster than Kunhang could see. His eyes were pitch black, unblinking, and the smile he sent him as he cupped his face, apologetic. He pressed his lips to Kunhang’s forehead for a moment, a cool touch against his burning skin, before moving aside.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for this,” Yangyang muttered, but Kunhang didn’t have time to say anything. Yangyang blew something onto his face, fine powder that smelt of lotus and made him sneeze. 

“He will,” Ten answered, his voice coming from afar. “Some things are best forgotten.”

The last thing he remembered was his roommate and Ten, watching him as he stumbled and fell to his knees.

 

***

 

He thought of holy water, consecrated land. A cross, wooden splinters under his fingertips. A laugh, a threat, a grin like a maniac’s.

Hands against a still-beating heart, torrents of blood flowing through the spaces between fingers, a paper wall to stop a river burst.

Cold. Everything was cold.

 

***

 

“Do you know why you’re here, Kunhang?” The man asked with a kind smile.

“Because you want me to answer your questions,” he received a chuckle for an answer.

“That’s true but, do you know how you came here?”

He closed his eyes, trying to remember, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember walking there, just waking up to a white ceiling, and men asking him questions. He shook his head.

“ _We_ brought you in. We had been waiting for the Devil to appear again. He’s elusive, your friend, have stayed out of sight for centuries. He’s had help, I guess. Like your roommate. What was his name, again?” The man cocked his head to a side, a fox in a human’s form.

Kunhang opened his mouth to open but closed promptly. “I-I don’t know,” he whispered.

“Of course you don’t,” the man replied with a smile. “It’s what he does, you know? Trick people, make others forget he existed, but we knew he was still there. It was just a matter of time,” He grinned, but all Kunhang could see was the baring of teeth. “And then, one day, he appeared at your doorstep,” his eyes turned cold as steel. “As if nothing had ever happened. Funny, right? Stop lying, Kunhang, and give us what we want.” He leaned forward. “Don’t make us hurt you,” he breathed onto his skin.

Kunhang tried to move away, put as much distance between them as he could, but he couldn’t. He trashed against what bound him to the bed, to no avail. The man just leaned back, amused at his struggles. He looked down, at the straps around his ankles and wrists that wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard he tried. He slumped against the mattress, feeling the prickling behind his eyes grow.

“What do you want?” He sobbed.

“To kill the Devil,” the man answered, grinning so wide it threatened to split his face in two.

 

***

 

_Say my name_.

 

***

 

Above them, bells chimed. There was a carriage waiting, just beside the cathedral, hidden by the shadows. They had run towards it, hands linked, their shoes leaving footprints in the humid soil. 

They were close, so close. The dream was just a few meters away, closer than it had ever been. But dreams come to an end when the Sun rises, and theirs was no exception, dying in front of their eyes, under the cover of the moon.

Because then there was someone, a shadow, tall, so tall, standing between them and their freedom, something like a weapon turned to them. Kunhang was partially hidden by another’s body, who stood there, protecting him, a living shield between him and the harm’s way.

“I’m sorry, but things like you cannot live among us,” said the shadow, before plunging towards them.

It all happened fast, too fast to track, as Kunhang shoved the body off him and onto the blood, leaving himself unprotected. There was a shout, and Kunhang was pushed away too, but it was too late: staring at him from above, there was a man, his face twisted in horror and regret, his hands covering his mouth, as if that could undo that harm that had just been inflicted upon him. 

Kunhang looked down, at the wooden end of the stake protruding from his chest. It glistened under the pale moonlight, slippery with blood when he tried to get it out with clammy fingers. Blood, his blood, flowed from the gaping wound in his chest and with every droplet, he could feel his life abandoning him.

“No! No no no no no! Don’t do this to me!” His vision was turning blurry, but somehow, he made out Ten’s face, tears streaming down his cheeks as his hands hovered above Kunhang’s torso, shaking uncontrollably. 

“I-it’s okay, my love. We’ll see e-each other again. I pro-mise,” his own voice sounded strange to his ears, but he smiled, and tried to wipe off Ten’s tears. He couldn’t, his hand getting halfway there before dropping to the floor.

“I’ll find you, I promise I will,” Ten hiccuped so much, his whole body shaking, as he pressed against Kunhang’s wound, as if trying to stop the blood from flowing. His mouth moved, saying something, mouthing a name, but his words were lost to the wind.

Slowly, the blood stopped flowing.

 

***

 

_Say my name and I’ll be there_.

 

***

 

“Who’s Hendery?”

Kunhang’s head lolled to the side, too tired to even move it properly. “Who are you? What’s your name? I can’t remember,” he mused.

“I never told you.”

“Who are you?” He tried to focus on the man’s face, but it was too much.

“Jungwoo.”

“Jungwoo…,” he repeated, drowsy.

“Focus. Hendery,” the man replied, impatient.

“I don’t know who that is,” he whispered.

“You mumbled it in your sleep, just now. His name appears in my great-grandfather’s journals, haunted him until he died. Who’s Hendery? Think!”

He wanted to think, he really did but… It was such an effort, his brain a jumble of thoughts and memories, all running through his head, making no sense.

There were things he remembered, blood-soaked soil, pain in his chest, someone crying above him. There were things he did not, words mumbled against his cheek, a promise to last for centuries to come. It was messy, it was dark, but it was slowly coming back.

_Say my name and I’ll be there. I promise, Hendery._

Someone laughed, an unhinged laugh, bringer of dread more than joy. It took him a while to figure out it was coming from him. Jungwoo was staring at him and Kunhang grinned brightly. He mouthed a name, testing its weight, how it felt against his tongue, and threw his head back, laughing.

“You want to know who Hendery is?” Jungwoo nodded, his gaze avid. Kunhang leaned forward, as much as his constraints would allow, and whispered. “You're looking at him.” He laughed at the look of alarm in the other’s face. “And he’s coming, you know? He’s coming for you right now. He might be here already and he won’t like what you did to me,” he grinned.

Jungwoo jumped off his chair, running to the door, but before he could reach it, it opened, slamming against the wall, almost coming unhinged. There, his eyes dark and manic, his face and hands covered in blood, stood Ten.

It was strange, the sweet smile he sent his lover, at odds with the grime and red that had tinted his skin. Hendery smiled back, relieved, excited. Ten took a step towards him, just when Jungwoo took a step back, his legs colliding against the table behind him. Ten whipped his neck to look at him, at the stake he had pulled from his pocket, holding it with unsteady fingers. His lips stretched into a cold mockery of a smile.

“You and your kind should have let it be when you killed him,” he purred.

Jungwoo sucked in a shaky breath, and threw himself at Ten, his stake pointed right at his heart. But Ten was fast, faster than Jungwoo expected, and he sidestepped him, gripping his arms and using the other’s momentum to twist it behind his back, so hard it made him drop the stake, brought him to his knees. Ten leaned forward, his lips a breath away from Jungwoo’s neck.

“Two things have kept me going for the last hundred and fifty years: seeing Hendery again, and this.”

Jungwoo trashed against the iron grip Ten had on his arm, as Ten dipped his neck, sharp fangs first, and sunk them in Jungwoo’s neck. Jungwoo’s entire body shook, his face contorted in agony, mouth open in a silent scream, as Ten sucked the blood out of his body. 

When he was done, he let his body drop to the ground, like he was nothing more than a puppet, not worthy of his attention. Ten wiped his mouth on his sleeve, before rushing to Hendery’s side, tearing apart the straps that kept him in place. 

“Let’s go, love. It’s over now. Xiajoun and Yangyang have left already, it’s our turn now. Let’s get out of here,” he whispered lovingly, as he cradled Hendery to his chest. Hendery wanted to relax, let himself be lulled to sleep by the movement and the sense of security he had from being in Ten’s arms, but his eyes stayed glued to Jungwoo’s form. He was pale and unmoving, though his body spasmed at times. Ten followed his gaze. “Don’t worry about him. When he wakes up, he’ll be too busy trying to run from his previous friends to bother looking for us.”

Ten brought them out, burying Hendery’s face in his neck to make sure he didn’t see what he’d done to get inside of the building, but there was so much iron in the air, he could almost taste it, and it was enough to fill in the gaps. Hendery didn’t mind, though. And he didn’t care what that made him, but he knew what those people had done over the centuries, and he couldn’t find it in himself to pity them. They had brought it over to themselves.

“Thank you, for waiting for me, for finding me,” he whispered against Ten’s cold skin.

Ten pressed his lips to the crown os Hendery’s head, moved them against his soft hair. “You’re the one for me, Hendery. I’d go to the end of the world for you, wait millennia. I love you too much not to.”

“I love you too,” Hendery smiled, his thoughts slowly giving away to darkness, his heart full of undying love, finally back where he belonged. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's the end of it! I hope it wasn't too confusing, and that you liked this, but if you have any questions, please, feel free to ask them!  
> Hopefully, I'll be back soon(ish). See you then!  
> Comments are kudos warm my heart <3
> 
> [tw](https://twitter.com/monstaruniverse) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Val_99)
> 
> \- Val


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